The train screeched to a halt at Hogsmeade Station, and the platform came alive with the usual chaos of students dragging trunks, chattering excitedly, and calling out to friends they hadn't seen all summer. Brooklyn adjusted her robes and grabbed her trunk, her Head Girl badge gleaming as she guided her siblings through the throng.
"First years, this way!" called Hagrid's booming voice, a welcome sound to many. Emily smiled and gave Brooklyn a little wave before hurrying off with her friends.
"See you at the feast!" Brooklyn called after her, feeling a twinge of pride as Emily vanished into the crowd.
Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Harry, and the twins gathered with Brooklyn, all heading toward the carriages. As they approached the thestral-drawn carriages, Harry froze mid-step, his eyes widening as he stared at the strange, skeletal creatures.
"What's wrong?" Brooklyn asked, glancing at him curiously.
"D'you see them?" Harry asked in a hushed voice.
"See what?" Ron looked around, confused.
"The thestrals," Brooklyn said softly, glancing at the creatures herself. Harry's gaze snapped to hers, surprised.
"You see them too?"
Brooklyn nodded, her expression somber. "Only people who've seen death can see them." A flash of her mother falling to the floor in their kitchen ran through her head.
There was an awkward silence for a moment, then Luna Lovegood appeared, her dreamy voice cutting through the stillness.
"They're quite beautiful, aren't they?" she said, her silver eyes wide as she gazed at the thestrals.
Brooklyn turned to see the strange girl standing there, wearing a necklace of butterbeer caps and clutching a copy of The Quibbler. Luna smiled serenely at the group, her gaze lingering on Harry and Brooklyn as though she could see into their very souls.
"Er...hello," Harry said awkwardly.
"Luna Lovegood," she introduced herself, then pointed to the thestrals. "You're lucky to see them, you know. Not many can."
Ron leaned over to Hermione and whispered, "She's a bit mad, isn't she?"
"I heard that," Luna said dreamily, not at all offended.
Brooklyn couldn't help but smile. "Nice to meet you, Luna."
With that, they all climbed into the carriages, and the journey up to the castle began.
The Great Hall was as magnificent as ever, its ceiling enchanted to reflect the stormy skies outside. Hundreds of candles floated above the long tables, casting a warm glow on the students as they took their seats. Brooklyn, still wearing her Head Girl badge proudly, led the way to the Gryffindor table.
As everyone settled in, Brooklyn glanced toward the staff table and noticed a new face: a woman dressed in an unsettling amount of pink, her short curls bouncing slightly as she tilted her head to smile in a way that felt anything but kind.
"Who's that?" Ginny asked, wrinkling her nose.
"Dolores Umbridge," Hermione whispered, leaning closer. "She works at the Ministry—Senior Undersecretary to Fudge."
"Great," Brooklyn muttered, not liking the look of her.
After the Sorting Ceremony, Dumbledore stood to address the school, his voice commanding yet kind.
"Welcome, students, to another year at Hogwarts!" he began. "Before we begin the feast, I have a few start-of-term announcements..."
Brooklyn listened as he went through the usual warnings about the Forbidden Forest and Filch's growing list of banned items. As he spoke, Brooklyn noticed Umbridge fidgeting, her tight smile never faltering but her hands gripping the edge of the table.
"And now," Dumbledore concluded, "I would like to introduce a new member of staff, Professor Dolores Umbridge, who will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year."
Polite applause filled the hall, though it was far from enthusiastic.
To everyone's surprise, Umbridge stood and cleared her throat with a delicate "hem-hem."
"Thank you, Headmaster," she said in a sickly sweet voice that grated on Brooklyn's nerves. "I'm sure we're all going to be very good friends."
She paused, her eyes sweeping the room, and Brooklyn could feel the tension rising.
"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of paramount importance," Umbridge continued. "However, progress for the sake of progress must be discouraged."
Brooklyn exchanged a look with Hermione, who was already scowling.
Umbridge droned on about "a return to basics" and "preserving traditions," but Brooklyn could hear the underlying message loud and clear: the Ministry was tightening its grip on Hogwarts.
When Umbridge finally sat down, the room was silent for a moment before the feast appeared. Brooklyn didn't have much of an appetite. She glanced at the staff table and caught McGonagall's stern expression.
"Great," Ron muttered. "Another nutter for Defense Against the Dark Arts."
Brooklyn nodded, her mind racing. Something about Umbridge felt wrong—dangerous, even. As the feast continued, her thoughts wandered to what the school year would bring and how they would navigate the challenges ahead.
As the Great Feast ended, students began filing out of the Great Hall toward their respective common rooms. Brooklyn, however, made her way to the staff table, her shiny Head Girl badge catching the light as she approached Dumbledore. Waiting nearby was Adrian Pucey, his Head Boy badge pinned smugly to his Slytherin robes.
Brooklyn suppressed a groan. Of all the people Hogwarts could have chosen. Adrian Pucey had been nothing but trouble for her since their first year, always sneering, making cruel comments, and flirting inappropriately whenever he got the chance.
"Ah, Miss Mclair, Mr. Pucey," Dumbledore greeted them warmly. "Congratulations to you both on your appointments. I trust you will work together this year to set a fine example for the rest of the students."
Adrian smirked, shooting Brooklyn a look that made her skin crawl. "Of course, Professor."
Brooklyn forced a polite smile. "Of course, sir."
Dumbledore nodded approvingly. "Excellent. Now, allow me to show you your shared quarters."
He led them up several staircases and through a portrait that swung open to reveal a cozy, small common area with plush armchairs, a crackling fireplace, and bookshelves lining one wall. Two staircases branched off in opposite directions, one leading to the Head Girl's private room and the other to the Head Boy's.
"These quarters are exclusively for your use as Head Girl and Head Boy," Dumbledore explained. "Should you need to meet or study in private, this will be an ideal space. If you have any concerns, my door is always open."
Brooklyn nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Professor."
Adrian leaned casually against the doorframe, his smirk widening. "Thanks, Headmaster. I think Brooklyn and I will make great use of the space."
Brooklyn's jaw tightened, but she said nothing.
Dumbledore gave them a kind smile before turning to leave. "Good night, and good luck with your responsibilities this year."
The door shut behind him, leaving Brooklyn and Adrian alone.
Brooklyn walked to the bookshelf, inspecting the titles to avoid looking at Adrian. But he was already making his move, crossing the room in a few strides to stand uncomfortably close to her.
"Looks like we'll be spending a lot of time together, Mclair," he drawled, his voice low.
Brooklyn stepped away, keeping her tone firm but calm. "Only as much as our duties require, Pucey."
Adrian chuckled. "Don't be like that. We've got a whole year ahead of us. Might as well get...friendly."
He reached out, brushing a strand of hair off her shoulder. Brooklyn slapped his hand away, glaring.
"Don't touch me," she snapped.
Adrian's smirk only deepened as he leaned closer. "Come on, don't act like you don't like it."
Before she could react, he moved to kiss her, but Brooklyn ducked out of the way, shoving him back with enough force to make him stumble.
"That's enough," she said coldly, grabbing her bag. "I'll be spending the night elsewhere."
Adrian laughed softly as she stormed out. "See you tomorrow, Head Girl."
Brooklyn's anger simmered as she climbed the stairs to Gryffindor Tower. By the time she gave the Fat Lady the password, she was too frustrated to care about the late hour or the fact that most of her housemates were already asleep.
She entered the common room to find George Weasley lounging by the fire, still awake. His face lit up when he saw her.
"Brooklyn! Thought you'd be in your fancy Head Girl quarters by now," he said with a grin.
Brooklyn dropped onto the couch with a sigh, running a hand through her hair. "Don't even get me started. Adrian Pucey is the Head Boy."
George winced. "Yikes. That bad already?"
Brooklyn hesitated, but the memory of Adrian's unwelcome advances was still fresh. "He's horrible. Tried to kiss me the second Dumbledore left. I'm not going back there tonight."
George frowned, his playful demeanor fading. "What? That git! You should hex him into next week."
"I might, eventually," Brooklyn muttered, managing a small smile.
"Well," George said, standing and offering his hand. "You're not sleeping on the couch. Come on, you can have my bed. I'll take the couch."
Brooklyn shook her head. "You're not sleeping on the couch, George."
"Then we'll share," he said with a wink. "Platonically, of course."
Despite everything, Brooklyn laughed. "Fine. But you snore, and I'm stealing the blankets."
"Deal."
They climbed the stairs to the boys' dormitory, and Brooklyn settled into George's bed while he squeezed in beside her. As the warmth of the blanket enveloped her, the tension from earlier began to fade.
"Thanks, George," she said softly.
"Anytime, Brooklyn," he replied. "Anytime."
As George lay beside Brooklyn, listening to her soft, steady breathing, he couldn't help but feel his heart race. It was surreal, having the girl he loved so close, sharing his bed—even if only platonically. He wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms and promise that he'd always keep her safe, but he knew better. For now, it was enough just to be here, her trust in him like a treasure he'd guard with his life.
The First Day of Classes
Brooklyn woke early, sunlight streaming through the windows of the Gryffindor common room. She stretched, shaking off the stiffness from her impromptu night in George's bed. He was still asleep, his red hair tousled against the pillow. Smiling softly, she slipped out of the room, heading upstairs to her own dorm to change and prepare for the day.
By breakfast, the Great Hall was abuzz with chatter. Brooklyn took a seat between Fred and George, already in full swing discussing ideas for their burgeoning joke shop. Across the table, Hermione was poring over her timetable while Ron piled sausages onto his plate.
"All right," Fred said, leaning toward Brooklyn. "First order of business—Umbridge. I've got a feeling she's going to be a barrel of laughs."
"More like a bucket of nightmares," Brooklyn replied, glancing at the staff table where the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor sat primly, her pink cardigan an affront to the dreary Hogwarts aesthetic.
"Still, we should probably make her class entertaining somehow," George added, grinning mischievously.
Before long, the group was headed to their first lesson of the day: Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Umbridge. The classroom was eerily pristine, with neat rows of desks and a noticeable lack of anything remotely practical or exciting.
"Good morning, class," Umbridge simpered as they entered, her high-pitched voice grating. "Please take your seats quickly. Wands away; you won't be needing them."
Brooklyn exchanged a wary glance with Fred as they sat down. "This should be interesting," she muttered under her breath.
Umbridge began her lesson with a dry recitation of Ministry-approved theory. The lack of practical magic sparked immediate protests from Brooklyn, and several others.
"But what about dueling?" Angelina asked, her hand shooting into the air.
"And defending ourselves!" Brooklyn chimed in.
"Wands are dangerous in untrained hands," Umbridge said with a saccharine smile. "You are perfectly safe under the Ministry's protection."
"Tell that to Cedric," George muttered darkly, earning a sharp jab in the ribs from Brooklyn to keep him quiet.
By the time the lesson ended, most of the class was seething, but the twins were already hatching a plan to make their time under Umbridge's watch more tolerable.
In the common room that afternoon, Fred and George commandeered a table, spreading out parchment and ink as they sketched designs for new products and advertisements.
"Listen up, everyone!" Fred called, standing on a chair. "Are you tired of dull classes? Need a little excitement in your day? Sign up to be a test subject for Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes!"
George added with a flourish, "Free snacks included if you survive."
Brooklyn rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her grin. "You're going to get yourselves expelled before the year's over."
"Worth it," Fred quipped.
"Besides, we've got a Head Girl to keep us in line," George teased, nudging her playfully.
Brooklyn smirked. "Don't tempt me to enforce the rules just to spite you two."
Despite her mock protest, Brooklyn found herself jotting down ideas for the twins' posters, unable to resist being part of their chaotic energy. It was just the distraction they all needed as the shadow of Umbridge's presence loomed over the school.
By the end of the day, the Gryffindor common room was plastered with colorful posters promising thrills and laughter—exactly what Hogwarts needed to survive the bleakness of the new regime.
The crisp autumn air buzzed with excitement as students poured onto the Quidditch pitch for the Gryffindor team tryouts. Brooklyn stood at the center of the group, clipboard in hand and her Captain's badge shining proudly on her chest. Her head girl badge caught the sun as well, making her look as authoritative as she felt.
"Alright, listen up!" she called, her voice slicing through the chatter. The hopefuls gathered closer, some adjusting their broomsticks nervously. Brooklyn gave a quick glance at her clipboard. "I'm Brooklyn McLair, your team captain this year. Angelina, Fred, George, and I are all seventh years, which means this is our last season. Their spots are secured—Fred and George as beaters, Angelina and me as chasers—but the rest of the positions are wide open. Let's see what you've got."
Fred leaned casually on his broom and gave the crowd a grin. "Feel free to be awestruck by our skills."
George added, "And if you can dodge one of our Bludgers, you've already impressed us."
Brooklyn rolled her eyes but couldn't help grinning. "Save it for practice, you two." She turned back to the group. "We'll start with seeker."
Harry Potter stepped forward, Firebolt in hand, looking as determined as ever. Brooklyn didn't even bother with long instructions. She released the Snitch and stepped back.
Harry was a blur. In less than two minutes, he was back on the ground, Golden Snitch in hand and a triumphant smile on his face.
"Potter, you're in," Brooklyn said with a shake of her head. "I should've just written your name down before we started."
Fred clapped Harry on the back. "Show-off."
George nodded sagely. "Must be nice to have a broom that does half the work for you."
"Alright, alright," Brooklyn said, smirking. "Let's move on to keeper."
Several hopefuls lined up for the next round, including Ron Weasley, who looked both nervous and determined. Brooklyn set Fred and George loose, and the chaos began. The twins sent Quaffles hurtling toward the goalposts, occasionally throwing in a Bludger for good measure.
At first, Ron missed a few saves, his broom wobbling as he tried to anticipate the shots. But as the tryout continued, he found his footing. By the end of his turn, he was diving and stretching with impressive accuracy, blocking almost every Quaffle.
Fred whistled. "Not bad, Weasley. You sure you're related to Percy?"
George grinned. "Yeah, you might actually be fun."
Brooklyn made a note on her clipboard and turned to Ron. "Keeper's yours, Ron. Welcome to the team."
Ron's face broke into a grin as Harry and Ginny swarmed him with congratulations. He looked stunned for a moment, then raised his fist in the air.
"Let's hope he doesn't faint during a game," Fred teased.
"Or puke," added George.
Ron rolled his eyes but couldn't hide his excitement.
Next came the competition for the final chaser position. Katie Bell, a returning player, was up against several contenders, including Ginny Weasley. Brooklyn watched them both closely as they sped through drills and scored goal after goal. Katie had years of experience, but Ginny's speed and precision were undeniable.
The competition dragged on, with both girls refusing to give an inch. Ginny's determination was palpable, and the crowd began to murmur in admiration.
Finally, Brooklyn blew her whistle and called the two over. "Katie, you've got the spot," she said, her voice kind but firm.
Ginny's face fell for a moment before she quickly masked her disappointment. Brooklyn placed a hand on her shoulder. "Ginny, you were incredible. Honestly, this was the hardest decision I've ever had to make. But listen—Angelina and I are both graduating this year. If you keep playing like that, you're a guaranteed starter next season."
Ginny nodded, her disappointment easing slightly. "Thanks, Brooklyn."
"You're welcome at every practice," Brooklyn added. "The more you train with us, the better you'll be."
Ginny managed a small smile and returned to the sidelines, where Ron and Harry were waiting to console her.
Brooklyn turned back to the remaining hopefuls. "Alright, everyone, that's it! To those who didn't make it, keep practicing. There's always next year."
As the crowd began to disperse, the new Gryffindor team gathered in a huddle. Brooklyn looked at her players—Fred, George, Angelina, Katie, Ron, and Harry—and felt a surge of pride.
"This is it, team," she said, her voice steady and confident. "This is our year. Let's make it one to remember."
Fred threw an arm around Brooklyn's shoulders. "With a captain like you? We're unstoppable."
"Don't jinx it, Fred," Brooklyn said with a laugh.
The team lingered on the pitch for a few more minutes, their excitement and camaraderie palpable before heading back up to the castle.